Broken
by Rayne-Jelly
Summary: Even with friends, so much of a person can be broken. Wounds of the body and soul may come into light far too late, and the consequences can be devastating... also confusing.


**Author's** **notes**:  No pairings, just strangeness, read the authors notes at the end, those should clear things up.  Sorry if there are any mistakes grammar/comma (comma splices are a bitch)/punctuation wise, I was too tired to go back and read through it.  

            A special shout out goes to DarkStar, again, simply because she and I worked this story together.  She should have her own version of it coming out soon, humor me, read it too.  A read and review earns a 'thank you!' 

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Inuyasha, I don't own any of the characters, hell, I don't even own my computer. 

~**Broken**~

            Miroku screamed in pain once before he lost consciousness. His body had taken massive amounts of punishment, only to be thrown into a staircase and impaled on one of the banister supports. The demon they were struggling to destroy was tough and mean; one of the worst combinations available in youkai. Then again, if they all came slow and stupid, there would be no point or challenge in killing them.  This demon was a shape shifter, one of the most dangerous forms known to man, but Kagome had informed the group of the three Shikon Jewel shards imbedded in its shoulder and off they skipped on their merry way to risk their lives.  

            Inuyasha would have survived the encounter regardless of mitigating circumstances, as would have Kagome – given that she was shooting from the sidelines and that Inuyasha would protect her at all costs. Even if he cursed her for putting herself in danger.  Miroku was not so fortunate, he had neither the weapons nor the capacity for pain to fight like Inuyasha, and unlike Kagome, there was no one there to protect him.  Instead, he was forced to rely on the generosity of his "friends." Only Kami-sama knew if they would see fit to lift him off the stake in his side and try to heal him after they had collected their precious jewel shards.  All of these thoughts passed through Miroku's head before he finally lost his grip on the world and slid into unconsciousness.  The answers to his questions would be answered in due time. 

~*~  

            Miroku fought against the blinding light coming from the window to open his eyes.  Everything was blurry, sharp pain bit at him like guard dogs at the news man's heels and he was having difficulties moving his right hand.  The monk couldn't remember exactly why this was so, but the fact remained: it was.  Memories didn't matter. Above him was a banister, one that he had somehow managed to avoid during his flight into the stairs.  Miroku groped in the air before finding purchase on the smooth wood.  

            He stayed still for a moment, attempting to regain his strength, and then tried pulling himself upright. It was a tricky and painful procedure; Miroku used his left hand to pull himself up, and his legs to keep his torso parallel to the ground, trying to avoid further injury by pulling the spokes out at an angle.  Surprisingly, Miroku managed the difficult feat with very little widening of his wounds before pushing himself to his feet and leaning heavily against the banister for support as he surveyed the scene.  The inn was a disaster, chairs and tables were in splinters and the floor had broken through where the large demon had fallen.  Inuyasha was bent over Kagome, worriedly checking for wounds in a rare moment of tenderness.  Miroku pressed his broken arm to his side, feeling the bones grate together and blood drip off of his fingertips.  The monk managed about two hobbling steps before the banister gave out under his weight, then cried out in pain and fell forward onto the unforgiving wood. 

            Miroku made an attempt to speak, resulting in a strangled gurgle as blood welled up in his throat.  After coughing the viscid liquid up and spitting it out, the monk tried to speak again with little more success, choking out "Ka-go-me." Though the sylables were half obscured by the cough he succumbed to moments later, Miroku knew in his heart of hearts that they could be heard.  Yet the girl had not so much as glanced in his direction.  Instead, Kagome was lovingly tending each and every scratch on Inuyasha's body, ignoring Miroku's plight.  

            A gigantic cough wracked his entire body as Miroku's lungs strove to fill themselves with air instead of blood.  The priest's body jerked of its own accord, curling into his injured torso and violently jarring his broken arm.  All Miroku could do was scream, utilizing what little lung capacity was allowed him.  Neither Kagome nor Inuyasha so much as flinched, though the dog's ears must have been ringing with the sound.  

            When the blinding pain receded, Miroku tried once again to push himself to his feet, but failed and was forced to push himself along the ground on his knees and his one good hand towards his friends. Surely they could see that he was in danger of dying, surely Inuyasha smelled the blood.  "Please… help me," he choked out, inhaling more fluid than air as he gasped for breath.  If he could only catch his breath then everything would be fine, "Please." 

            Miroku collapsed once again, his legs having given out beneath him, completely numb.  If only he could rest, if only there was someone to help him; Miroku knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he did not reach Inuyasha and Kagome now, he never would.  "Kagome" he tried again, dragging himself on his left arm alone, "Inuyasha" but neither party looked up.  The two were arguing now, bickering over something as meaningless as demon heritage.  Was Miroku so unimportant that petty bickering out ranked him? Were Inuyasha's injuries so severe that Kagome felt the need to neglect everything else?  To the monk, Inuyasha merely looked banged up, a few bruises and scrapes, but nothing more.  It was ironic really, Inuyasha was repeatedly stabbed, gored, and even gutted and Kagome was always at hand to help, but now that Miroku was in the same situation, no one cared. Was Miroku so useless to the cause that his friends would let him die? Surely they had not heard his cries nor his pleas for help.  Surely they cared. Didn't they?

            Miroku's strong fingers grasped at cracks and crevasses in the wood as he pulled himself along.  He was getting tired and was losing massive amounts of blood.  The monk's shoulder ached with the strain of hauling him along in his weakened state but he couldn't stop.  Miroku was, on a whole, out of energy his entire existence had condensed itself into these moments, a matter of survival; if he stopped now he would be lost forever. One part of his brain, however, still had the mental capacity to observe, and observe it did.  Miroku noted rather wryly that his blood soaked robes actually made it easier to slide along the wood than would have dry ones.  Then again, if he'd never had bloody or wet clothes, there would be no _need_ to slide.

            Finally! Finally Miroku reached Kagome, the one person that could help him, and the bearer of the Shikon no Tama.  He struggled to lay his head in her lap, knowing with absolute certainty that he would survive in Kagome's hands.  "Kagome." He gasped, allowing his overtaxed body to relax at last. "Please help."  The girl didn't look down but continued the conversation with Inuyasha. The subject had changed, Kagome was now trying to soothe Inuyasha's temper in her oh-so-practical voice, saying that she was trying to help, but he wasn't cooperating.  

            Tears of futility seeped from Miroku's eyes and poured down his face.  He was in so much pain and no one cared.  Every inch of him was screaming for help, but no one seemed to notice, they were all wrapped up in their own affairs.  Even Shippo refused to look at him, choosing instead to study a leaf avidly, with his head between his hands.  In a ditch effort to gain Kagome's attentions, Miroku raised a bloody hand to touch her serene white face.

            At last Kagome turned her expressive dark eyes towards him.  She was completely unaffected by his plight, staring at him as though he were Myoga being squished under Inuyasha's big toe.  Apathetic.    

            Miroku's hand fell away from her blank stare, leaving nothing in it's wake.  Miroku gasped in shock and shook his head trying to clear it, this just wasn't possible!  The monk's hand had been drenched in his blood but Kagome's face was as pure and clean as the day he'd first seen her by the river.  His blood was not transferred to her, he wasn't even important enough to stain her skin.  Had he ever been worth anything? 

            The priest shut his eyes, willing his world to change as he opened them again, and for a brief moment, it did.  Kagome's eyes were full of tears, her strange uniform soaked with his blood. But the image flickered and died, leaving in it's place the real Kagome.  The perfect, beautiful, remarkably untouched young woman, someone that would never save him.

~*~

            Kagome frantically tried to heal Miroku long after he was dead.  Her vision was blurred with tears and her hands slick with his blood as she tried to piece his body back together.  Shippo was sitting in a corner, rocking back and forth with tears dripping down his cherubic cheeks and Kagome felt like doing the same.  Miroku was dead, a cornerstone of their friendship was lost to them forever, and it was all her fault! 

            The battle with the shape shifter had been fierce and Kagome had been swatted into a wall mere seconds before the youkai went down.  The girl from the future had hit her head on the sturdy wall and passed out immediately there after.  Inuyasha had revived her shortly after he killed the demon and retrieved the jewel shards, but the damage had been done.  Kagome had seen Miroku go flying into the staircase, but she'd been preoccupied at the moment, and couldn't risk going to him.  It took her a few minutes to realize that the ever present Miroku was not leering at her from over Inuyasha's shoulder.  Once she did, she scrambled to her feet in order to search for the monk, and found something out of nightmare.  

            Two of the banister's balusters were protruding from Miroku's torso, and blood was pooling around the unconscious monk.  Kagome screamed in horror before having Inuyasha lift him from his prison and set him on a table. Kagome set to work, stripping Miroku of his cumbersome robes and trying to assess the damage.  Miroku didn't make things much easier on her because he kept thrashing around, calling her and Inuyasha's name and coughing up blood.  At one point, he screamed, his entire body convulsing. It was a sound both pitiful and agonizing enough to raise the hairs on the back of Kagome's neck. 

            Inuyasha did his best to help by holding Miroku as still as possible and pinning down his legs, but when it was apparent that his efforts were not helping Kagome sent him out of the room.  In a way, Kagome's making him leave was a good thing; he couldn't stand to be around pain or sorrow, both of which ran rampant through this room.  So given the opportunity to flee the scene, he took it.  When he reentered the room, curious and worried over his friends' well being, he found Kagome working over the obviously dead monk.  Miroku was no longer drawing in breaths, his lips were pale blue, and his entire body was a waxy, sour-milk color but Kagome was still fighting diligently for his non-existent life.    

               "He's gone, Kagome." Inuyasha said as gently as possible, trying to bring her some measure of peace.  Instead, Inuyasha's words had the opposite effect as Kagome redoubled her efforts, pounding a fist on his chest, over his heart as though a few good whacks could get it started again.  

            Inuyasha wrapped his strong arms around the hysterical woman from behind, keeping her from continuing the futile effort.  Kagome wailed, breaking into sobs and shoving Inuyasha off of her with a shriek.  The girl collapsed over Miroku's corpse, sobbing hysterically and crushing the folds of his robes in her hands.  "Why?" she screamed, "Why aren't you alive?  Why couldn't I save you?" Her questions remained largely unanswered as her painful, hiccupping sobs degenerated into soft tears and the occasional moan.  "Why didn't you come back, Miroku?"

            "It was his time, Kagome." Inuyasha tried solemnly, he always considered death with the utmost respect and seriousness; human lives were easily lost, but their souls were something to be envied by all species, no matter how long-lived.  

            Kagome turned a puffy eyed glare on to her dog-eared companion. "How can you say that?" she demanded.  "He's our friend, he deserves better than this! I should have saved him! Why couldn't I save him?" she ranted, taking out her considerable rage and sorrow out on him.  Kagome wasn't at all stunned by his death like Inuyasha was; she'd witnessed it, felt him die under her care and was mourning her ineptitude.  If only she'd been a better doctor, he would have lived.  She should have been able to save him.

            Inuyasha had never been the most tactful person in the world, but he was trying to comfort Kagome by saying, "You did the best you could.  No one short of Kikyo could have saved him."

            Kagome refused to speak to him for three days.  

            The funeral was simple and straight forward; there were no fancy ceremonies, no heavy handed words to cheapen their mourning, just Kagome, Inuyasha, and Shippo.  Inuyasha had dug a deep grave, then covered the body of their friend in dirt.  It was a difficult thing to watch, handfuls of cold soil being thrown on top of their once vibrant companion, but there was nothing to alleviate the pain.  Kagome was going to place Miroku's staff at the head of his grave for a marker, but in a fit of agonized rage, smashed it against a tree, sending a shower of red and gold leaves raining down on her head.  The ornament on top of the staff broke, a small chunk of it flying off into the loam, and one of the rings landed at Kagome's feet.  Remarkably, all of the remaining rings stayed on the broken metal.  Kagome took this as a sign and picked up the ring, pocketing it.  She firmly planted the staff in the ground above Miroku's head, insuring that it would not be blown over by any amount of wind, and began crying again.  It was hard to believe that he was gone.  Hard to accept that he would never piss her off again, never try to grope her again, never save her life again.   She felt so drained, so exhausted by the whole thing.  How many more friends would be sacrificed in the search for the Shikon no Tama? 

            Later that evening, she pulled the ring from Miroku's staff out of her pocket.  The sky was overcast, leaving the area darker than usual, but the ring seemed to give off its own light.  She pulled a leather thong out of her book bag and strung it through the ring before tying it around her neck.  She would keep the piece of gold (I'm assuming it's gold, work with me) as a reminder of Miroku for the rest of her days, keeping a piece of him so-to-speak.  Kagome tried to sleep, but it was long in coming.  Every time she closed her eyes, Miroku's face would flash before her eyes, jolting her awake.  The wind was moaning through the trees, and every so often, a cold drop of water reached her through her sleeping bag as though even the weather was mourning Miroku.  

            Kagome cried herself to sleep; dreaming of monsters and blood, then woke in the morning barely able to see.  She and Inuyasha packed camp in silence, moving towards the next jewel shard without having said a word, not even Shippo felt like sparking up a conversation.  The girl from the future felt the jewel shard coming ever closer, as though it were moving towards them which was no surprise given that any youkai would hunt them down to obtain the chunk that they possessed, but Kagome was greatly surprised at having to dodge a gigantic boomerang that got hurled her way.  

            "HIRAIKOTSU!!!" 

~Owari. 

Okay, that was pathetic, I know it.  It's not at all what it should have been, but a few things need explaining.  Firstly, I didn't want to kill Miro, that was DarkStar's idea, but send flames my way anyway.  Anyway, the segment that was separated by ~*~ those cute little things, it was pretty much a hallucination.  That should help.  Then Sango comes along, and that should have made people scream "Oh the Irony!"  (Did it make people scream oh the Irony?  Did people get that it was Sango?)  

            What's more, I'm not hell bent on torturing Miro, it's just, and he was dealing with a lot of insecurity issues.  He felt worthless, lonely, unappreciated etc, and lets face it, the only REAL weapon he has is the Wind tunnel, which is not an indoor toy, and will kill him anyway.  Poor Miro-Kun.  Besides, he kept seeing Inuyasha and Kagome, and was jealous because they were too wrapped up in each other to notice him, when really, everything that was going on in his cute little head were his own feelings of inequality. When he was lying in Kagome's lap, and wanted his reality to change, he saw the real thing for a second, he just didn't believe it.  Thus the title of the fic "Broken" Miro's perceptions of reality were broken, his heart was broken, then his staff was broken.  Sorry, couldn't resist.  

            Heh. I know that was a ridiculously inadequate stab at self defense, but yeah… please review, this is only my second Inuyasha fic (my first having gotten quite thoroughly charred by flames), and I want to know what you think.  


End file.
